Impression
by Myriddin
Summary: ONESHOT. A weyrling queen catches the attention of the bronze Jarth and consequently, that of his reluctant rider.


**Impressions**

**Disclaimer: I own no parts of Dragonriders of Pern, related characters, or storylines. Characters and storylines involved in this fic are original and have no standing in canon. **

Summary: Meetings and first impressions.

_**Benden Weyr, 1278- Fifth Pass, T20 **_

A'thor was suddenly awoken one morning by the loud keening of several dozen dragons. He groaned, burying his face in his pillow, and reached out with his mind to his partner.

_What's happening?_

_A green's getting herself chased. _Jarth's reply had the same drowsy quality as his rider, and something about that caught A'thor's attention.

_Not interested?_

_Not at the moment. _Their link quieting, A'thor waited until the sound of draconic snoring filled both his head and the weyr, and he chuckled to himself, choosing to climb out of bed instead of following the bronze's example. Naked, he slipped out from between the covers, hissing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. As he stretched, his eyes caught his image in the reflecting glass nearby, and he paused.

Holder-bred, nearly five Turns had now passed since he had first come to the Weyr, and he was no longer the scrawny, gangly youth he had been when he Impressed Jarth.

He was tall, able now to carry the height without his old awkwardness. His frame had filled out, shoulders and arms broadened, his body trim and leanly muscled. His skin was deeply burnished from hours under the sun, and his dark hair was cropped in typical rider fashion. While never one for vanity, he wasn't unaware of his looks, and he was no stranger to the intimate secrets a warm body and dark weyr could offer a man.

He quirked a smile and shook his head, turning his attention back to dressing, and maybe a bath if there was room, before his bits iced over in the winter chill. Winter at Benden was a wondrous time of year, he groused to himself.

**xx**

One of the best part of Benden's Lower Caverns, besides the ever-encompassing promise of good food and companionship, was how wonderfully _warm _it was. A'thor sighed with pleasure as he prodded down the stairs to the welcoming smells and heat, wonderful heat. He maneuvered through throngs of hungry and chatty riders to make his way toward the kitchens. The Headwoman, Sela, gave him a warm smile as he slipped in, pointedly ignoring the giggles of a few of the girls he passed by. Sela arched an eyebrow, gave him a wry look, and proceeded to dish him a bowl of porridge and a cup of fresh klah. "Spiced just the way you like it, love," she told him.

A'thor grinned, leaning down to kiss a wrinkled cheek. "Thank you, Sela. You're an angel."

Sela scoffed and lightly rapped his knuckles with her spoon, though the light coloring of her face had the rider's smile widening all the more. "There's fresh bread on the tables, if you can wrestle any away from your fellows. Now, get going, you charmer, before I let my girls have their pick of you."

He gulped, casting a wary look at the trio of young women openly appraising him and he hastily nodded. "Best I should. Have a good morning, Sela."

He scurried out of the kitchen, out into the busy bustle of the communal dining room, and he brightened as his friend, B'ren, motioned him over. A'thor made his way toward him, seating himself down to the comfortable, familiar atmosphere to the table of four.

Snatching up the remainder of the table's bread, he took a long draw of his klah, about to tuck into steaming spiced porridge when he caught B'ren giving him a strange look. "What?"

The brown rider gave him a sly smile. "You hear the green's flight this morning?"

A'thor snorted, and nodded his head. "How could I not? It woke me…us…both, up."

Their mutual Wingsecond, bronze D'gal, gave him a curious look. "Jarth wasn't interested?"

"Not in the least," A'thor sighed, "He's still snoring away in the weyr."

M'lan, another brown rider, propped up his chin and gave him an appraising look. "No interest at all? What is this, the fifth, sixth flight you've stayed grounded? Probably more."

Both B'ren and D'gal looked at A'thor with sudden interest. "He's right," D'gal said, "It seems a bit strange. Has Jarth even looked at a female since last spring?"

"Since Sebama," B'ren corrected, giving his friend a pointed look. The entire table winced at the mention of the prickly green rider, beautiful but deadly in attitude. She had been A'thor's weyrmate for a time, and never failed to let everyone know her displeasure at the arrangement.

A'thor glared at them, rather disgruntled about being put on the spot. "No. He hasn't. I…" he trailed off, looking suddenly wistful, "It's odd, almost like he's waiting for something…" He shook his head, focusing on his fellows with a frowning defensiveness. "What about you three? You wouldn't be here now if you'd been part of the chase earlier."

M'lan sighed. "I was on watch duty. Trust me, Ianith was twitchy, all right."

D'gal shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he sipped at his klah. "I woke up this morning with my own woman wrapped around me. Taneth and I were plenty satisfied."

B'ren huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "I was running messages. Earned a few marks, but I missed out on a good tumble."

A'thor laughed good-naturedly, shaking his head at his friends as he began to eat.

"Eat hearty, boys," D'gal told them all enthusiastically, "We've got Thread at 09:00."

His only response was a chorus of protesting groans all around.

**xx**

Daniela, the most junior of Benden Weyr's queen riders, sat on a ledge overlooking the Bowl, watching as weyrlings and their young dragons popped in and out of Between over the practice grounds. Wrapped up as she was in hide and fur, she still shivered as a brisk wind blew by. It was midway through the 11th month of the Turn, and while there was still no snow, the weather was still significantly cold.

There was a muffled sound of movement from the weyr behind her, and seeing through her rider's eyes, the sound of the young queen's voice was full of yearning. _Can I fly like that? _

_We have to wait, dear heart. You're not old enough yet. _

_I'm the same age as the others. _

_You're a queen. The Weyrleaders say you can't fly for a few more months. _

Banceth grumbled. _I can descend to the feed grounds, but I'm not allowed to fly. _

Daniela smiled sympathetically. _I'm sorry, love. _The girl, and her bondmate through her, sighed and stared longingly at the open sky.

**xx**

The fighting wings suddenly appeared out of between above the weyr. As their Wingleader had stayed behind with a minor Thread injury, D'gal gave the signal to descend. In response to Jarth's continual complaining that he was starving, A'thor chuckled as the pair made their way to the hunting ground. "Really, you glutton," he commented as they dropped down, "You would think I never feed you. You just ate two days ago."

Jarth chose not to reply, depositing his rider on the ground and lunging at the first herdbeast he saw. A'thor glanced around, noticing the grounds were nearly empty. An elderly rider feeding his brown, who was more bronze with age than anything else. Two small greens, just barely out of weyrling status, were playing as much as they were feeding. The bronze rider smiled at their jubilance, and his eyes widened as he realized who was near the mischievous greens.

**_Jarth!_**

The young queen dragon, with her teeth buried deep in a beast's neck, barely paid any mind to the bronze that veered off his path near her and swung his great head toward his rider. Jarth, older and larger in size than the queen, needed to be drawn back both in respect and for the female's safety. The bronze moved away a decent distance, both males watching as the queen snagged another herdbeast.

Her rider, who had been chatting with the green riders, took notice of their retreat and she approached them. "It's alright," she said to A'thor with a smile, "She's almost done."

A'thor made to protest, but the girl spoke to the queen, cutting her off. Banceth protested. "You will not gorge yourself, Banceth," her rider chided, "Others have to eat."

At that command, Jarth rushed forward at the herd with a ferocity and recklessness that had A'thor groaning. He turned his head toward a resulting giggle, and the girl grinned at him, knowingly.

She was beautiful, he realized. Her hair, a rich and glossy raven-black, cascaded around slender shoulders. She had one of those sweet, open faces, complete with a pair of emerald eyes looking up at him curiously. She was petite, small in frame, and A'thor smiled as he thought she would fit perfectly tucked up against him. But he realized, belatedly, she couldn't be more than seventeen.

"You're Daniela, right?" he asked, trying to remember the riders D'gal had pointed out to him at the last Hatching with a queen egg.

She nodded.

"I'm A'thor," he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder, "That big lug's Jarth."

"I know," she gave him a shy smile, "You fly with D'gal."

"Uh-uh. You know D'gal?"

"Hmm, yes. He's my brother…well, half-brother."

A'thor was visibly surprised, but he nodded understandingly. It had taken some time, him being hold-bred, for him to comprehend. He knew fostering was practiced in the weyrs, and relationships between parent and child, as well as siblings, weren't normally as strong as the bonds later formed between fosterlings, wing-mates, and weyrmates.

"_Have you chosen a name for yourself?" the Weyrleader asked. _

"_A'thor. It's simple enough," A grin, white teeth flashing in a glowing, youthful face. "And Jarth likes it."_

_The Weyrleader reached out, clapping a hand against the boy's shoulder. "Then congratulations, A'thor, rider of bronze Jarth. Welcome to your new home."_

"Then old D'sel is your father?" his nose wrinkled with distaste at the thought of the old, irritable bronze rider who always seemed as if he had swallowed something sour. "I didn't know D'sel had a daughter. Or that D'gal had a sister."

She gave him a curious look. "I'm sure you know the ways of the weyr. My mother died several years ago. I was fostered, and I was never very close to D'sel. I'm on better terms with D'gal than I am with most older riders."

He gave her a charming grin. "Well, you can count two now." He turned toward Banceth with a soft, reverent expression. "She's quite beautiful. A good size for a queen, and such a lovely shade."

Daniela smiled at the compliment, even more so at the soft crooning Banceth began at the human male's praise. "She's getting bigger, larger than the other dragonets."

"She's a queen. She'll be larger than Jarth."

"Dunno," Daniela said dubiously, "Jarth's pretty large."

"Hmm…one of the biggest bronzes in the weyr."

As they had been talking, Banceth and Jarth had gravitated toward one another, nuzzling and nudging against each other. Daniela giggled as she watched them, and A'thor smiled as she watched her. Warmth flooded through him.

_Jarth?_

_Yes?_

_Was that you?_

A sound of agreement, and another feeling of that heat swelling in his chest. _She's too young_, A'thor said firmly, finding himself not only speaking of the young queen.

_She'll grow. _

His breath catching, A'thor swung his head around to stare incredulously at his dragon.

Last spring…the queen egg, Banceth's egg…had hatched.

Looks like he found what Jarth had been waiting for.


End file.
